


I'mma Hold You Down Until You're Amazed

by cascades (heartroots)



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:51:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartroots/pseuds/cascades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dressing room sex. That is all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'mma Hold You Down Until You're Amazed

Kyuhyun doesn’t quite know what he did to set Zhou Mi off, but whatever it was he’s glad he did it; he’s got Kyuhyun backed up against the wall of his dressing room with his hand down the front of Kyuhyun’s trousers, his teeth scraping against that sensitive spot on Kyuyhun’s neck that makes him whine high in throat. 

The only downside of this situation is that they’re supposed to be back on stage in fifteen minutes. 

“Could you go a little faster?” Kyuhyun hisses, bucking his hips up into Zhou Mi’s hand. 

Zhou Mi smiles and nips at Kyuhyun’s ear, his hand stubbornly keeping the same pace on Kyuhyun’s cock. “No."

Kyuhyun bites his lip to hold in a moan when Zhou Mi jerks him rough, once, then goes back to the too-slow stroking. Fucking tease. His thumb comes up to rub at the leaking head of his cock, and Kyuhyun idly wishes that Zhou Mi had some calluses on his fingers because his skin is too smooth to create the friction Kyuhyun needs. His cock throbs in time with the ticking clock in the corner as Zhou Mi works him, bringing him _so_ close, but backing off every time. 

Suddenly, Zhou Mi lets go of Kyuhyun and drops to his knees. Kyuhyun moans in anticipation. _Finally_ , he thinks as Zhou Mi slowly tugs his zipper down. He pulls Kyuhyun’s cock out and wraps his fingers around it, licking his lips so sensuously it has to be purely for Kyuhyun’s benefit. No one is that sexy without trying. 

“Zhou Mi, come _on_. We’ve only got ten minutes,” Kyuhyun reminds him quietly. Or, as quiet as he can be when Zhou Mi’s lips are two inches from his cock and he can feel his warm breath ghosting over the tip. He’s about to add a “please” when Zhou Mi leans in and runs the flat of his tongue across the head of Kyuhyun’s cock. What comes out instead is, “Oh, _fuck_.” 

“We’ll get to that,” Zhou Mi breathes out. Kyuhyun wants to hit him.

“I can’t believe you just made that pun. I hate you, and you are _not_ fucking me right now. We have to be on stage in,” Kyuhyun glances over at the clock, has to squint to see the time through his tearing eyes, “eight minutes! Fuck.”

Zhou Mi pumps Kyuhyun’s cock in his tightly-clenched fist until a bead of precome leaks out the tip, and then laps it up. “I _am_ going to fuck you, Kui Xian,” he says, between pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along the length of Kyuhyun’s cock, “I’m going to fuck you, and they’re going to be looking for us. Anyone could hear. Anyone could walk in and see, and there’s nothing you can do about it because I know you won’t say no to me.” 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Kyuhyun chokes out. He's having trouble breathing at the moment, partly because what Zhou Mi’s saying is so hot it’s kind of suffocating, but mostly because Zhou Mi finally stopped teasing and took Kyuhyun’s dick into his mouth. “Oh my god, oh my god Mi, please,” he pants, his fingers tangling in Zhou Mi’s silky hair as his head bobs, perfect lips sliding, slick with saliva and precome, up and down Kyuhyun’s cock. Kyuhyun closes his eyes and throws his head back, hopes something will delay the performance from starting on time. Zhou Mi’s right; he won't, _can't_ say no to him. 

“Here,” Zhou Mi says as he abruptly stands, reaches into his back pocket, and tosses Kyuhyun a miniature tube of lube. “I know I have a condom in my wallet, hold on.” His voice is rough and just a little frantic, and Kyuhyun’s cock gets impossibly harder when he sees the bulge straining against the front of Zhou Mi’s trousers. 

Kyuhyun catches sight of the clock—five minutes left—and pushes his pants down around his thighs. He opens the tube with a little difficulty (because it’s a _screw top_ —who the fuck has the presence of mind to unscrew something when they’re this far gone?) and squirts some lube onto his fingers. It’s a little uncomfortable when he pushes two fingers straight in, but they don’t have time for much more. 

“Let me,” Zhou Mi says. Kyuhyun obediently pulls his fingers out and hands Zhou Mi the lube. Zhou Mi puts the condom in his teeth, grabs Kyuhyun by the hips, and lifts him up against the wall; Kyuhyun wraps his legs around Zhou Mi’s waist and moans, mindlessly thrusting against the new friction of Zhou Mi’s textured blazer against his cock. Zhou Mi squeezes some lube into the palm of his hand and then tosses the tube onto the floor. 

Kyuhyun unbuttons and unzips Zhou Mi’s trousers for him, wraps slick fingers around Zhou Mi’s cock and strokes him. He takes the condom from Zhou Mi’s mouth between his own lips, rips it open with his teeth, and rolls it onto Zhou Mi’s cock. As Kyuhyun spreads lube down Zhou Mi’s length with his still-slick fingers, Zhou Mi pushes one finger, then two, into Kyuhyun. He fucks him with them until Kyuhyun’s squirming, the rough friction against his insides _this_ close to what Kyuhyun really wants. 

When Zhou Mi’s fingers hit his prostate, Kyuhyun lets out a high-pitched sound that anyone within ten feet of the door could have heard. He should probably be worried about someone barging in to ask him what’s wrong, but right now he’s too concerned with fucking himself down onto Zhou Mi’s fingers to care. Kyuhyun spreads his thighs (as much as he can in this position) and Zhou Mi’s fingers slide in deeper, nudge up against his prostate and stay there. Kyuhyun shudders. Zhou Mi rubs against it, agonizingly slowly, relentlessly, until Kyuhyun’s on the very verge of begging, and then he thrusts three fingers in. Kyuhyun has no idea what to call the noise he makes. 

“ _Please_ ,” he begs, “Please Zhou Mi, just fuck me already. I can’t stand it anymore.” 

“Just a little while longer, Kui Xian. I’m going to make it so good for you,” Zhou Mi says, sucks a mark into the crook of Kyuhyun’s neck that his collar will (hopefully) cover later. Kyuhyun whines when Zhou Mi pulls his fingers out, and again when he untangles Kyuhyun’s legs from around his waist and sets him down on the floor. Kyuhyun is now hard, empty, and _confused_ , but before he can ask Zhou Mi what the hell he’s doing, he manhandles Kyuhyun over to the desk to their right, roughly bends him over it, and thrusts all the way into him in one stroke. Kyuhyun lets out a choked sound and grabs the edge of the desk, his manicured nails digging into the wood surface. 

He can see the clock perfectly from this position. Two minutes. 

Zhou Mi gives one shallow thrust, then another, and then he puts his hands on Kyuhyun’s hips and starts fucking him in earnest. There’s no rhythm to it. Zhou Mi digs his fingers into Kyuhyun’s skin hard enough to bruise and _fucks_ him—if Kyuhyun wasn’t holding onto the desk, it probably would have slid a foot across the floor already. Kyuhyun doesn’t have enough air in his lungs to moan, so he lets his mouth fall open and just tries to breathe, curls his fingers tighter and spreads his legs as wide as the trousers around his ankles will allow. 

One minute. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi pants. Kyuhyun’s heart skips a beat when Zhou Mi puts one of his hands over Kyuhyun’s, loosens his grip so they can lace their fingers together over the edge of the desk. “When you winked at me on stage, this was all I could think about for the rest of the performance.” _So that’s what it was_ , Kyuhyun thinks, and then he stops thinking when Zhou Mi hits his prostate dead on. “The hip thrusting at the beginning didn’t help, either.” 

“They’re going to come looking for us any minute,” Kyuhyun says breathlessly. 

“I guess you’ll just have to come _faster_ then,” Zhou Mi laughs, and then the fucking gets twice—no, three times as intense. Kyuhyun groans. Hot shivers run up and down his spine, spasms and sparks of pleasure flaring through him from the nonstop stimulation of his prostate. 

Someone calls his name from outside. Kyuhyun bites his tongue to keep himself from screaming Zhou Mi’s name and comes, without even touching his cock. His head falls forward and _thunk_ s against the desk, his entire body twitching with aftershocks. A few seconds later, Zhou Mi gasps Kyuhyun’s Chinese name and tightens his hold on Kyuhyun’s hand as his orgasm hits him as well. His body falls limply forward on top of Kyuhyun’s, pressing him uncomfortably against the desk. 

There’s a knock at the door. 

“Shit,” Zhou Mi says, pulling hurriedly out of Kyuhyun; Kyuhyun winces. Zhou Mi runs a concerned hand, fingers trembling almost imperceptibly, up his bare thigh. 

“I’m fine,” Kyuhyun whispers, and then, “Hurry up!” 

Zhou Mi nods and stumbles backwards. He refastens his pants and ties off the condom and tosses it in the trash. Kyuhyun pulls up his trousers and grabs a tissue to wipe his come off the desk. Some of it also soaked into his shirt, but (hopefully) his jacket will cover it. Zhou Mi fixes Kyuhyun’s hair as best he can without a comb or hairspray, then messes it up again when he grips it to pull Kyuhyun in for a kiss. Neither of them bothers to re-fix it when they break apart. 

“Kyuhyun, we’re going to be on in thirty seconds! Are you okay?” Ryeowook calls worriedly from outside the door. 

“I'll be there in a second!” Kyuhyun calls back. More quietly, he asks Zhou Mi, “Do I look decent enough?” 

Zhou Mi considers him seriously, straightening the lapels on his jacket. “Well. There might be one or two fancams with the title, ‘Kyuhyun looks thoroughly fucked!’, but aren’t there always?” he says cheekily. 

“You are a pain, we are _never_ doing that again, and I hate you,” Kyuhyun says, but he’s smiling as he fixes Zhou Mi's tie. Zhou Mi kisses him once more and then shoves him out the door into the waiting arms of Hankyung, who stops mid-scold to raise a suspicious eyebrow at Zhou Mi. He gives up on lecturing them on the merits of punctuality and instead drags them both on stage, just as their names are called for the last performance. Considering the circumstances (his sore ass and wobbly knees, not to mention that ever-present condition of being stupidly in love), Kyuhyun thinks he dances pretty well. No fodder for fancams _there_. 

When they line up to take their bows, Zhou Mi puts an arm around his waist and leans in; anyone watching would assume he was translating what the announcer just said, but really he whispers, “When we get back to the hotel, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to dance for a week.”

“Ditto,” Kyuhyun smirks.


End file.
